by Ann Mullen
“I wonder if Daisy also killed this woman like she did Alice and the others.”
“If she did, her murderous rampage started a while back. According to the article, Sophie died in 2004.”
“That was two years ago.”
“I wonder how many people Daisy has killed since then. Did the killing start that year, or does it go back even further?”
“I just can’t believe a woman like Daisy is capable of doing something so terrible. She seems so nice. What makes a person do such horrible things, Jesse?”
“I don’t know, Mom. But since I’ve been with Billy, I’ve seen a lot of the ugly side of people. It’s hard to believe there are people walking around who have no regard for human life.”
“That’s so true.”
“Some people kill without the least bit of remorse. After some of the things I’ve seen, now I know why we have the death penalty.”
“I’m beginning to feel the same way.”
“Sometimes you just have to rid society of people who commit these atrocities against others.”
I burped Ethan, wrapped him securely in his blanket and then laid him back in his crib. I walked over, looked down at Maisy who was still sleeping, and then motioned to Mom.
“I guess they’re good for another couple of hours. I’m so glad that Maisy sleeps through the night. I don’t know what I’d do if they both got up in the middle of the night.”
“You could handle the task,” Mom said. “I’m sure of it. I wish your dad could see you now. He’d be so proud.”
She put her arm around my shoulder as we walked out of the room.
“After all those years of your rebel-rousing, you’ve turned out to be a well-adjusted adult. I had my worries about you, but not anymore. And you’ve found the perfect man for yourself. I’m so glad you have Billy. I had my doubts about Cole after a while, but I never had any about Billy.”
“I’m sorry that Dad never got to see how good my life has turned out. He’d be so proud.”
“Your dad has always been proud of you, Jesse.”
Mom started to sniffle and it wasn’t long before the two of us were standing in the hallway, sniffling together.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and said, “We have to stop this, or I’m going to look rough in the morning.”
“I guess we should go back to bed and try to get some sleep. Billy’s down for the count and there’s no getting anything out of him now.”
“According to his description of Kansas’ house, I think the man must’ve had an obsessive/compulsive disorder. He never threw anything out. I think he might’ve been the one who was snatching up all those dogs and cats in Dogwood Valley.”
“What kind of disorder is that?”
“It’s just like it sounds. He’s obsessed about keeping everything and compelled to never throw anything away. Of course, there’s more to it than that, but it would take me all day to explain it.”
“I don’t understand,” Mom said. “And I don’t think I want to.”
“I’m just wondering where he buried all the animal corpses.”
“That’s a horrible thought. Why would he kill a defenseless animal?”
A thought occurred to me.
“Perhaps he didn’t mean to,” I said. “I read about people like him. In my psychology class we studied disorders and how people with certain disorders act. If he had a learning disability or was mentally challenged in some way, he could’ve accidentally killed them. Maybe he hugged them too tight.”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure, I am. It’s been known to happen.”
“That’s so sad.”
As we stood at the doorway to my bedroom, I looked over at the clock on the nightstand.
“We better go to bed. It’ll be dawn before you know it.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Mom and I hugged each other and then went to our separate bedrooms.
Athena and Thor followed after Mom, while Spice Cat remained in his comfort zone.
I crawled back into bed and fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow. I’d just fallen asleep when I thought I heard someone banging on the front door. I figured I was dreaming, until the dogs started barking.
I could see the shadow from the light in the living room and heard someone yelling. I looked over, but Billy wasn’t in bed.
Not again, I thought. I jumped up and stumbled to the bedroom door. I looked down the hallway and saw a frightening sight. Billy was struggling with Daisy Clark! He had a hold of her arm and I could see a shiny object in her hand that looked like a gun.
The dogs barked wildly and jumped on Billy and Daisy as they fought.
I ran over to my dresser, opened the top drawer and pulled out my .357. I turned and went back to the bedroom doorway and stood there for a second.
I took a deep breath and then took off down the hallway, gun raised. The closer I got, the more I could see that it was, indeed, a gun Daisy had in her hand. By the time I reached the living room, I looked to my left and saw Mom coming down the stairs. I knew that she was unaware of the danger.
“Get back upstairs!” I yelled.
Mom hesitated for a second and then turned and ran back up the stairs.
The gun fired twice into the floor, and the last time the gun went off, Daisy shot herself in the foot. It looked as if the tip of her shoe had been ripped off by the blast. Blood ran from the ragged toe of the shoe.
Fortunately, no one else was hit. Billy finally grabbed her wrist with one hand, and with the other, snatched the gun away.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, but you gave me no choice,” Billy said to Daisy as she fell to the floor in pain. “You broke into my house and put my family in danger. I had to stop you.”
The kids started crying.
Athena and Thor circled Daisy, their teeth bared.
Spice Cat came in from the hallway and inched forward in a crouched position, hissing at the crazed woman as if he were using up the last of his nine lives to defend his home.
I’d never seem him act so aggressively. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was rabid.
Then, without good reason, the cat stopped hissing and approached Daisy. He rubbed against her just as he had done to us many times.
Daisy grabbed her foot and screamed at us. “Murderers, all of you! You killed my brother. Why? Why would you kill a harmless man who never hurt a soul? He couldn’t help it if he wasn’t like everyone else! Now look at what you’ve done to me. You shot me in the foot.”
Startled by Daisy’s outcry, Spice Cat scrambled away.
“You shot yourself,” Billy said. “U-lv-no-ti-s-gi `ge ya! Ni-hi a-da-hi-hi!”
Mom came down the stairs in a rush. “I feel like such a coward for running away.” She looked over at Billy. “What were you saying?”
Billy looked at Mom.
“She is a crazy, poisonous woman. Don’t think about her. Think about the fact that you did the right thing. When someone has a gun and you’re told to run, that’s what you should do.” He looked from Mom to me and said, “I’m so proud of you both.”
The kids started crying louder, either from the loud sound of the earlier gunfire or from Crazy Daisy lying on our floor, still screaming in agony.
I felt as if she deserved to be in pain. I handed my gun to Mom and said, “I have to go take care of my kids. You’ve earned the right to hold someone at gunpoint. Are you ready for this responsibility?”
“After these past couple of days, I can handle anything.”
“We will call you e-`tsi a-wi e-qua—Mother Elk.” Billy’s face lit up with pride. “You are strong and also wise. Now you have learned when to run and when to stay. Keep the gun pointed on her and I’ll call the police.”
“Since everything is under control, I’ll attend to my young ones.”
I turned and left the room. I went to the nursery and assessed the situation. Maisy was terrified and tearful. I picked her up, put her p
acifier back into her mouth and held her closely. We snuggled together as I went over and placed the blanket back over Ethan’s little body, and then patted his back.
He quickly calmed down. Soon he was fast asleep and Maisy was nodding off. I placed her back in her crib and stood there looking at both of them.
“I have two wonderful children. I’m so lucky,” I said out loud and then turned and left the room.
When I got back to the living room, everyone had moved to the kitchen.
The dogs were lying quietly in the corner of the room and Spice Cat had reappeared. He was no longer hissing.
That surprised me because I knew he would hiss at people he didn’t like. He’s a laid-back cat and that doesn’t happen often, but it has happened. Usually, the people that Spice Cat hissed at turned out to be bad people.
Animals have good instincts when it comes to bad people.
Billy was leaning against the kitchen counter holding my .357 in his hand. Another gun, a .38 caliber that obviously belonged to Daisy was on the counter next to him.
Mom was over by the dining table trying to bandage Daisy’s foot, shoe and all, with an old, bathroom towel. She pulled the towel tight and put pressure to Daisy’s foot. Daisy cried out in pain.
“What are you doing, Mom?”
“We can’t just let her bleed to death. She’s given up. She can’t fight back. It’s the right thing to do, Jesse.”
We all looked over at the three bullet holes in the floor by the door and the trail of blood that led to the kitchen.
Billy walked over to the door, bent down, looked back up and said, “I don’t see any toes, so I guess she was lucky.”
I almost gagged at the thought.
“I don’t know why we’re feeling sorry for her,” I said. “She sent her brother to Mom’s house to kill us, and then she comes here with the same goal in mind. Are we nuts? You must’ve lost your mind!”
“You’re the one who’s nuts,” Daisy lashed back at me. “I didn’t do any of the things you accuse me of, except come here. I wasn’t going to hurt anybody. I just wanted to scare you. I know what my brother did was wrong, but did you have to kill him?”
“He was like a madman,” Mom said in her most soothing voice. “Daisy, I was scared for my life, and the life of my daughter. You can understand that. We had to defend ourselves. We had no other choice.”
Chapter 18
Daisy Clark was injured and in extreme pain, but managed to continue to ramble on, declaring her brother’s innocence as we waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive. She looked distressed and beaten. She was a shell of a person. I almost felt sorry for her.
“I don’t understand what would make him do something like that,” Daisy said. “It’s not like him. He’s done a few things that I’m not proud of lately, but he’s never hurt anyone.”
“Maybe he just hates animals,” I said.
“He likes animals. He takes home strays and tries to protect them. Sometimes he hugs them too tight. I talked to him about it, but I couldn’t get him to stop. I told him he was doing more harm than good, but he just didn’t understand.” She looked directly into Mom’s eyes and said, “I swear to you, Minnie, my brother wouldn’t hurt you, unless…”
“Unless what, Daisy?”
“Unless he went off his medication.”
“Now, ain’t that grand?” I said as I walked with Billy over to the kitchen counter.
I stood staring at the .38 lying on the counter. I had to give Daisy credit for learning from her first mistake. If she had really wanted to kill Jonathan, she should’ve used a higher caliber weapon like the one she brought here tonight. She would’ve gotten better results.
“You have a brother who literally loves animals to death, goes off his medication, and then resorts to killing people. Are you going to try to convince us that he wanted to love us to death? That’s about as stupid a story as I’ve ever heard.”
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to tell you.”
“I see that you’ve gotten wiser,” I said, changing the subject. I pointed to the gun. “Now you’re using a real gun… not like that puny .22 you used on Billy’s brother. You shot Jonathan with your .22 and didn’t kill him, so you decided to go big, or go home.”
“What are you implying?”
“Most women choose a .38. It’ll stop anyone no matter where they get hit, unless you’re a bull elephant. Nothing stops one of them. Not even you, Daisy Clark.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daisy said, tearfully. “Gabe only has one gun.” She pointed to the one lying on the counter. “That one over there. That’s the only gun we have in our house.”
“Oh, I see. I guess that means you must have the .22 in the garage or in your car. Which one is it, Daisy? The garage or the car?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Daisy replied. “That is the only gun we have. We don’t own a .22, I swear.”
“I’m sure you’re telling the truth, but forgive me for not believing you. We’ll find the other gun. I can promise you that. While you’re rotting away in a jail cell on multiple counts of murder and attempted murder, we’ll be digging through everything you own. How do you like that, Miss Smarty Pants?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Daisy yelled. “I didn’t kill anyone! I swear!”
Billy walked over to Daisy and sat down in the chair next to her.
“What happened to your brother to make him like he was? Was he born that way?”
Daisy hesitated for a second and then said, “He drank alcohol and coffee and then took some kind of tranquilizer. Then he tried to hang himself. But he failed. He didn’t die, and he’s been messed up ever since. He was left brain-damaged.”
“How many years ago did this happen?” I asked. “Was it around the time Sophie died?”
“How did you know about Sophie?” Daisy fussed. She was startled at what I’d said. “You’ve been snooping around his house, haven’t you? How dare you! What gives you the right to go prowling around on someone’s property like a stalker?”
“How dare you kill all those women just so you could move up the ladder in your stupid social club!” Mom snapped. “Why, Daisy? Why would you do something so terrible? Have you no shame?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Minnie!” Daisy replied. “I didn’t kill anyone. Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because the evidence points to you!” I shouted.
“All right, I have to admit that I thought Pat Johnson died from the mushrooms I fixed, but later I learned that I was wrong. And I will admit that at first I was overwhelmed with the thought that I could get rid of someone so easily.”
“You have that killer instinct.”
“When I came to my senses, I realized how wrong I’d been. I just wanted everyone to think Pat wasn’t right for the position of club president. I wanted that spot. I’d earned it. I never should’ve tried to make Pat look bad. I didn’t play fair, and it was wrong. Thank God, I wasn’t responsible for her death! I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
I walked over, slammed my hand down on the table and yelled at Daisy.
“You never did answer my question about Sophie. Did you kill her, too? What happened? Did she try to take your brother away from you?”
“I didn’t kill Sophie.”
“I’ve met women like you before. You put your brother up on a pedestal. You thought he was too good for Sophie, so you got rid of her.”
Daisy started to cry, but her tears were wasted on me.
“You’re a sick person. You belong in jail.”
I turned and walked back to the kitchen. I looked down at the gun on the counter and then looked up and asked, “Where’s Gabe?”
Something about that gun was bothering me.
“He’s probably still in bed,” Daisy replied. “He gave me those pills, but I didn’t take them. When he went to sleep, I snuck out of the house. Somebody needs to call
him for me.”
“I’ll go call him,” Mom said.
She got up and went to the wall phone.
“How did you know where to find us?” I continued.
“I fell apart when I found out about Kansas. I wanted my brother’s killer to pay, so I made Gabe call his detective friend. It didn’t take long to put the pieces of the puzzle together.”
Daisy turned to Mom and said, “I was so hurt when I found out that you had tricked me.”
Daisy let out a cry of pain. The blood from her wound had seeped through the towel and was pooling on the floor.
Mom hung up the phone and came back over to the table. She dragged one of the kitchen chairs over for Daisy. She carefully lifted her foot and placed it on the chair.
“Gabe didn’t say a whole lot. He was confused, but said he would get to the hospital as soon as he could,” Mom said. “I told him they’d probably take you to UVA. When they ask, tell them that’s where you want to go. Okay?”
“Okay,” Daisy said, weakly.
“The ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on, Daisy. I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?” I fumed. “She’s the one who came here to get revenge. She’s the one who shot herself in the foot!”
Mom looked up at me and ignored my statement.
“Jesse, would you go to the laundry room and get another towel?”
The .38 handgun on the counter was still bothering me as I turned and walked to the laundry room. As I retrieved a towel from the cabinet and then turned to walk away, a thought crossed my mind. Is Daisy telling the truth about the gun, and if so, is it a possibility that she’s not the guilty party? Could she be telling the truth about everything? Have we blamed the wrong person? What about that eyewitness who saw Daisy run Alice off the road? Could the eyewitness be wrong? A whole lot of questions had been stirred up in me because of that gun.
If Daisy was telling the truth about the gun, then maybe she wasn’t lying about other stuff after all. By the time I got back to the kitchen, I had a lot of unanswered questions.
Mom looked at Billy and asked, “Should we take off her shoe?”
“No!” Daisy insisted. “I don’t think I could stand the pain, and the sight of it would probably make me sick. I’m weak-kneed. I faint at the sight of blood.”